


Things Aren't the Same

by Dinosaurjockey



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinosaurjockey/pseuds/Dinosaurjockey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen finds watching over Samson brings up feelings he had hoped were gone, especially when Samson talks about nothing but the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Aren't the Same

**Author's Note:**

> One shot thing I wrote months ago. My first Sullen fic!

Cullen hunched over his desk, trying desperately to block out the annoying voice that filled his office.

“Huh, Rutherford? ya listening?” the dark haired man barked, slipping a book on the shelf and turning towards Cullen. The Inquisitor had put Samson under Cullen’s care and he was starting to regret agreeing to it. Samson was a talker, always had been, and it seemed that part of him hadn’t changed over the years. They had been together everyday for a week now and all the man seemed to talk about was Kirkwall, painfully reminding Cullen of the time spent there, and time they spent together.

“I’m trying not to.” he mumbled, scribbling something on the parchment in front of him.

Samson turned towards Cullen with a slight frown, “Come on, Rutherford, you’re always all work and no play. It won’t kill you to take a break and talk for a bit.”

Cullen said nothing, focusing his attention on the letters strewn across his desk. Samson watched him for a moment before shrugging and turning back to organize the bookshelf. Cullen had never been organized, not for as long as Samson knew him anyway. He smiled as he thought back to the times he would tease him about his disorganization in the barracks. “Hey, Cully-”

Cullen slammed a palm on the desk, his annoyance starting to turn to anger, “Samson, stop! Do not call me that, things have changed, you are my prisoner and nothing more. Quit acting so casual with me.” he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, shutting his eyes and massaging his temples to relieve his growing headache.

Samson flinched at the words but remained silent, after a moment he stood up and made his way to Cullen’s desk.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed. We were in our room and you had finally told me about what happened to you in that mage tower. Not everything, of course, but enough. You cried and cried, I had no idea how to comfort you, so I kissed you cause it was the only thing that came to mind.” Samson said curtly, he stood in front of Cullen and looked into his hazel eyes. The blond felt his heart jerk, he wanted to stop his former companion from speaking further but couldn’t find the words. Samson leaned down and put a hand on the back of the chair, their faces inches apart.

“Do you remember all the times I pounded you into that fucking cot. How you whimpered and moaned like a dog in heat? I had to shove your head into the pillow so the others didn’t hear you. You were a loud little thing. Or when Meredith caught us fighting in the courtyard and punished us by making us clean her office. Remember how I fucked you on that bitch’s desk, oh you were really into that. The thought of being caught got you off.” Samson let out a breathy laugh, “Your fucking cock leaked all over her important letters, do you think she ever found out it was her favorite pet’s cum?”

Cullen’s cock was straining against his pants, Samson being so close and whispering in his ear with that gritty voice was too much and any shred of willpower he had left vanished. He reached up and grabbed the man by the back of his neck, pulling him down for a forceful kiss. It was wet and sloppy, all teeth and tongue, with spit dripping down their chins. Cullen grasped Samson’s hips and dragged him into his lap, grinding his hardness against him. Maker, it had been years since he had been with anyone, not since Samson was kicked from the Order.

Samson continued to talk as Cullen trailed kisses and bites along the pale skin. “Remember when we use to sneak out to the Hanged Man, just us? Just to get away from everything for a bit? Heh, you’d get so drunk I had to carry you home.” he sucked in a breath when Cullen bit into a particularly tender spot on his throat and decided to keep silent for the moment.

Cullen ran his hands up the small torso, pulling Samson’s shirt up as he went and tossing it on the floor. His heart dropped when he saw the man’s body. The lack of red lyrium was taking a toll, the thick muscles that once adorned him were now gone, leaving his body thin and pale. He looked weak, not just physically, but mentally as well and it hurt Cullen. Back in Kirkwall Samson had always been there for him. Cullen was constantly a nervous wreck, the events of Kinloch still fresh on his mind. Samson saw that and quickly took him under his wing and accompanied him everywhere, and when Cullen ever felt the urge to scratch and tear at his neck the man would reach out and hold his hand, it didn’t matter where they were as long as it kept Cullen from hurting himself. And on nights when Cullen would awake screaming from nightmares, Samson was immediately at his side, holding him in his arms and whispering calming words until he fell into a fitful sleep. Seeing this once strong man reduced this was painful. A rush of pleasure interrupted his thoughts, Samson had pulled out Cullen’s aching cock and was working his hand up the shaft, loosening and tightening his grip rhythmically. Cullen let out a moan and moved his hands to untie Samson’s dirty trousers, he stood to wiggle them off and kick them into a pile with his shirt. He sat back into Cullen’s lap, the Commander kissing him hard before sliding two fingers into the hot mouth. He watched as Samson slid his tongue around them, making sure to get them dripping before Cullen pulled them away. He moved them to Samson’s hole, teasing the entrance before shoving in roughly.

“Fuck.” Samson growled, grasping at Cullen’s shoulder and pushing back against his hand. Thick fingers worked in and out, scissoring and pumping, opening Samson up and leaving him a moaning mess. “Rutherford, please,” he hissed impatiently.

Cullen obliged, pulling his fingers out and moving his hips to position his cock against the twitching ass. He placed both hands on the soft cheeks, bracing Samson before slamming him down his length. They both groaned at the new heat and Cullen waited for Samson to get adjusted, he was about to start moving when the man started talking again.

“Cullen,” he said flatly and sat up to look at him, “do you remember when I was caught exchanging letters for that mage, and Meredith brought me into her office to administer my punishment. You stood there behind her refusing to look at me, I didn’t understand why you looked so upset. And then she kicked me from the Order for something so menial, and you did nothing. You stood there with your arms behind your back, still refusing to look at me. You didn’t speak up in my defense, you didn’t try to offer me a second chance, you let me be kicked into Lowtown and rot in my lyrium addiction. You didn’t even bother to come see me. I didn’t understand, you just forgot about me, after everything-” his voice cracked and hot tears began to stream down his face. Cullen gazed in disbelief, he had never seen Samson cry, and the words he spoke hit him like a brick. They were true, he remembered it all too well and he could never bring himself to forget. The walls he had put up to keep Samson out were starting to crumble. This man needed him, needed him like Cullen had needed him in Kirkwall.

Anger rose up sharply in Cullen and he lifted Samson up and slammed him down on to his desk, his cock still buried deep in the man’s ass. “You’re an idiot, Samson, a big fucking idiot.” Cullen said through gritted teeth. He angled the man’s legs over his shoulder, placing one hand beside his head to steady himself, and the other gripped a bony hip bruisingly. Cullen pounded into him roughly, not being any sort of gentle with the man underneath him. He loved Samson, he always had, a lot more than was probably wise, and he wished desperately things could go back to how they were. But they couldn’t, not after everything Samson had done. Helping Corypheus, force feeding his men red lyrium and turning them into monsters, almost bringing about the end of the world. It was too much. Hot, watery heat built up behind Cullen’s eyes as the thoughts bounced around in his mind, the tears dripping on to Samson’s chest. The man reached a hand up and wiped away the wetness from his face. Cullen felt his heart waver at the gentle touch, at the deep look of concern in Samson’s eyes, and he let out an angry sob.

He grabbed Samson’s hand and pinned it to the desk and thrust into him harder. The commander focused on the way Samson moved his ass in time with his thrusts, the way his rough moans filled the air begging Cullen not to stop. Cullen could feel himself getting close and his thrusts became erratic, he leaned over Samson and buried his face in his neck, kissing and sucking at the skin and whispering soft “i love you”s into his ear. Samson scratched at Cullen’s back as he came, grinding up to meet the heavy thrusts, a liquid warmth between his legs told him the other man had also found release. They lay tangled together for a moment to catch their breath. Cullen was the first to pull away, now soft cock slipping from Samson’s dripping ass. He turned away and ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair, his eyes still stinging with salty tears, “Samson, you need to go back to your cell.”

“What? No after sex cuddling? That was always your favorite part.”

Cullen covered his mouth to hide a choked sob, of course Samson would joke during an emotional situation, it was so like him. He said nothing, keeping his back to the man as he listened to him dress. Samson watched him with pained eyes, but Cullen didn’t move so he left angrily, shutting the door quietly behind him. Cullen slammed a fist into the stone wall once Samson was gone, welcoming the pain that shot up his arm. He couldn’t see Samson anymore, he decided, the pain was too much.

After he calmed down a few hours later, he went to the Inquisitor’s quarters and begged for him to be relieved of watching Samson. He hated going back on his duties, but he just couldn’t handle it. The Inquisitor nodded, and ordered a guard to lock Samson up in the prison for life. Cullen never went to see him. 


End file.
